


Late Night Hoping

by ladygray99



Category: Numb3rs
Genre: Community: qldfloodauction, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-15
Updated: 2011-06-15
Packaged: 2017-10-20 10:39:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/211896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladygray99/pseuds/ladygray99
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For once it's Charlie who's out of town and Billy left alone in the empty bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Late Night Hoping

**Author's Note:**

> Written for devon99 for her donation to Queensland Flood Relief.

Billy had always been a traveler. Even as a child he seldom stayed in one place more than a month, but those moves were usually out of his control and in the hands of Child Protective Services. People would think that as an adult he'd want to settle down but instead he just kept on moving, seldom happier than when there were four wheels turning under him and a fugitive ahead of him.

That was until he'd met Charlie. When he had fallen back into the orbit of Don Eppes he'd thought it would be like old times; that they would catch their bad guy then maybe go out for beers and pick up a few girls but those plans went a little sideways and the thing that knocked everything off kilter was named Charlie Eppes.

In all their time working fugitive retrieval, Billy had never actually seen a picture of the mysterious Charlie, so in his head Don's brother simply looked like Don, just skinny with thick glasses and bad skin. When he met the unstoppable mathematical tornado that was actually Charlie with full kissable lips and perfectly clear skin all his thoughts about a life eternally on the road started coming into doubt.

Billy looked at the clock that was telling him it was 1 AM. He'd gotten off a manhunt three days earlier, just in time to put Charlie on a plane bound for a conference in Sydney. He had used his badge to walk Charlie to the gate and kiss him there, but that didn't change the fact that he was alone in a bed that should have been filled with Charlie.

He wondered if this was how Charlie felt during all those weeks and months Billy left him alone to go chasing across the country, or if Charlie was just used to it by now.

Billy wondered what time it was in Australia. Probably late but those conferences seemed to have parties every night. At least if some of Charlie's wilder stories were to be believed.

Billy tried to rub those thoughts out of his head. Charlie wasn't there and the thought of jacking off just wasn't doing it for him.

Instead he rolled out of bed.

Billy had to admit he was an id kind of guy. If he couldn't have sex, the next best thing was food, and Alan Eppes, bless his mother hen soul, always kept a well-stocked kitchen.

When Billy got to the bottom of the stairs, he noticed a dim light creeping from under the kitchen door and could hear someone moving around behind it. He thought about going back upstairs for a second.

It wasn't that he and Alan didn't get along. It was just that they had never spent more than a few hours around each other without Charlie. However his stomach had decided it liked the idea of a snack and cast the deciding vote.

In the kitchen it looked as if Alan's stomach had the same idea. There was a stack of sandwiches on the counter and as well as bits of leftovers from the fridge.

“Billy.” Alan seemed quite perky for the hour. “Did I wake you up? I'm sorry.”

“I was already awake. Couldn't sleep. Actually was going to raid the fridge.”

Alan pushed a plate of sandwiches over. “Help yourself.”

“Thank you.” Billy took the sandwich off the top and took a bite. A second later he felt his blood sugar jump through the roof. “Alan,” Billy asked around a very sticky mouth. “What's in these sandwiches?”

Alan was poring himself a glass of milk. “Peanut butter, banana slices, chocolate syrup, honey and I found some M&Ms for crunch.”

“Are you stoned?” was Billy's instant reply, even though he didn't mean it all that seriously. Unfortunately, Alan proceeded to giggle. “Oh my god, you are stoned.”

Alan giggled again. “Just a little. At my age it's more about numbing the arthritis than getting high.”

“I am an FBI agent you know?”

Alan waved a hand and poured Billy a glass of milk as well. “Are you really going to tell your boyfriend that you busted his dad?” Billy gave Alan a hard look. Alan just chuckled at him. “I spent thirty-two hours under FBI interrogation when you were still in diapers. You're going to have to get a lot scarier than that Agent Cooper.”

Billy gave up and just ate the sandwich instead. After a few bites he found it wasn't actually that bad.

“So what was the interrogation about?” Billy asked. Charlie had mentioned his dad had a record, but hadn't gone into details.

Alan shrugged. “What's any interrogation about? Break the suspect, get a confession, get names of accomplices.”

“I'll assume you didn't do whatever it was.”

“No, I didn't. And I didn't rat out names either,” Alan said with a firm nod, a hard look and a grab for another sandwich.

“I can appreciate that. My old man went away for… I don't know what when I was a kid, got himself shivved for being a snitch while there.”

Alan's face immediately softened. “I'm sorry.”

Billy just shrugged a little. “I never really knew the guy and by all accounts he was an asshole and I wasn't missing much.”

“What about your mother?”

“Three for solicitation and another three for holding, plus six months for kneeing the cop who grabbed her on the way in.” Alan blinked a few times. Obviously Charlie hadn't shared some of the more gruesome details of Billy’s upbringing with his father. It wasn't something Billy ever tried to hide. It was a fact of his life and frankly there was hardly a kid in school that didn't have at least one parent who had done time. He'd gotten an ass-kicking when the word got around that his dad had been a snitch but that was about it.

“I'm sorry, Billy. That must have been hard.”

“Honestly, it could have been worse. Most of the kids I grew up with never left town, most of them didn't graduate school, most of the girls were knocked up by 15. I got out and I even found a job that suits dumb, stubborn hicks.”

Alan waved his finger. “Don't try that dumb hick line with me. I've seen an FBI application and they want Masters Degrees and field experience before they give you the time of day. That means you've got a fancy piece of paper with your name on it lurking around somewhere.”

Billy felt a little guilty. It was one of the things he still chalked up to his childhood. It was okay to have a mom who made a living working the truck stops but there were names for guys who went to college. “It’s in a storage shed in Virginia.”

“And what does it say?”

Billy studied the ceiling for a moment. “Masters in Social Work.”

“That sounds like a good degree to have.”

“All the social workers I knew as a kid were idiots, so I figured it couldn't be too hard.”

“Did you actually work for social services before the FBI?”

Billy nodded, staring at the floor this time.

“I took three kids off my prom date 'cause her boyfriend was cooking meth in their house. Signed up for the FBI after that. Wanted to catch bad guys more than deal with that shit.”

“Don and Charlie say you're good at it.”

“I guess.” Billy found himself reaching for a second sandwich. “What about you, Alan? What did your folks do for you to turn out this wild radical dope smoking hippy?”

Alan laughed around his own sandwich. “They worked day and night for years to pay for their only son to go to college where he promptly fell in with a dangerous crowd of pacifists and civil rights campaigners.”

“Throw in a little free love and they had you hooked.”

“Pretty much.”

“What did your folks do?”

“My mother cleaned houses for people richer than us and my father was a chef.”

“That's interesting.”

Alan shook his head. “This was long before celebrity chefs were all over the TV. This was even before Julia Child. Heck this was before TV. I still remember sitting on the rug staring at the radio. Being a chef was a strictly blue collar job and considered about two steps away from being an arsonist.”

“Was he any good?” Billy asked.

Alan looked down into his glass of milk as if it might contain great answers to the universe. “I don't know. He never cooked at home. Cooking was work. I mean he probably was. He cooked at the best restaurant in town but we could never afford to actually eat there.”

“I'm sure he was good then.” Alan nodded and took the last of the stack of sandwiches. “What time do you think it is in Australia?”

Alan looked up at the clock. “I don't know. Some time tomorrow evening. Six, Seven maybe. Missing Charlie?”

“I'm not used to being in that bed when he's not here.”

“He's used to it when you're not here.”

Billy cringed a little at the low blow, but he knew he deserved it. He asked a lot of Charlie, especially because he knew Charlie was the very loyal type. He'd never cheat on Billy, no matter how many nights one side of the bed was empty.

“I never meant to fall for Charlie, you know? Never in a million years of Sundays. He sure as hell wasn't supposed to be interested in my ill-bred backwoods backside. I’m still not sure what he sees in it, or why he puts up with any of it.”

“Maybe he's hoping that if he waits long enough one of these days you're going to come home to stay. Put your degree on the wall next to his.”

“I'm good at what I do Alan. I make sure a lot of bad people stay where they can't hurt anyone.”

“I know. Charlie knows it too. That doesn't keep him from hoping.”


End file.
